The Clockwork Angel
by Clacexwessaxfindingsky
Summary: Tessa has finally done it! She has run away from home hoping to find answers, when she returns to London she finds her house gone and in its place the London Institute! Whilst there she meets Will and Jem, boys who are both attracted to her... as the mystery of Tessa's parentage unravels so does another dark secret. I suck at summaries! Go read! All victorian etc
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my first ****fanfiction****! I have meant to publish a story for a long time but never gotten round to it. I started the idea of this for an English ****assessment and then I realised i could change it into something very Cassandra Clare like, so here is the clockwork Angel!****There are a few ****differences****in the story of Tessa's background, her father was Ithuriel the angel Valentine killed in the end! **

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**I do not own any of the characters just the storyline**

**X T X**

Prologue

A wordless shriek ripped through the frigid winters night, making me start awake in apprehension. Peering through the gloomy forest, with needle like precision to spot any sort of movement, I winced as tendrils of icy winds reached the inner depths of my soul, tugging at me to see if my spirit wanted to dance with the winds from the four corners of the Earth or cause mischief with puckish delight. The empty night mocked me, as a child would swing a piece of wool in front of a kitten to see its reaction. Should I take the bait and go and see if here is anybody out there?

"Is there anybody there? Come out!" My voice sounded much braver than my insides were: a mush of worms and butterfly's. "Come on Tessa!" The internal voice sounded horribly like my governess,

"By the angel, is it really that hard to practise a speech in front of a mirror? No, I thought to myself, jolting back to the present, no it isn't hard to talk to a spectre. The forest glittered dangerously in the light of the little button moon, making the landscape look pale and ghostly; a destroyed land from times gone by, like the ones in my storybooks at home.

Carefully I untangled my limbs and got to my feet, shaking of the light dusting of snow. Looking down at myself I chuckled without mirth, what would the governess say if she saw me? Two black hobnailed boots peeped out from the bottom of the dark blue evening dress, the bodice of which had lost too many pearls. I smoothed my raven coloured hair back from my face, which felt sticky, suddenly scared witless. My left hand flew unconsciously to my neck, from which hung my mothers clockwork angel, as it always did when I was scared or overwhelmed. Knees knocking and heart pounding out of my chest, I stumbled warily through the thick copse of trees. Tripping ungainly over a hidden tree trunk, I tried to regain my balance, but was teetering on the edge of a sudden precipice, then I fell.

I rolled over and over down a step hill, into thickets and brambles. A rose bush tore out a clump of my tangled hair, making me cry out in agony. I landed with a thump, my ankle gave way beneath me and I landed in a dazed crumpled heap of torn skirts. My vision blackened at the edges as I began to lose consciousness; the last thing I heard was the familiar, rhythmic ticking of the clockwork angel.

My eyes flew open as a numbing coldness fell over me, stifling my breathing. My chest constricted, I was suffocating! This could not be happening, this must be some sort of absurd dream and I WILL wake any second now.

It is needless to say, I did not wake up. Scrambling out of the deep snowdrift was no easy feat and when I emerged, panting and frozen, I found myself in a humble clearing, with what looked like a pile of food on a log. I jumped up, my ankle protesting at the sudden movement, but something crucial was missing... Something more important than my possibly broken ankle and I couldn't figure out what it was.

Without warning a dark figure with a cowl hiding his face appeared. I bit back a curse; how could someone have crept up on me so easily? He (I knew it was a man as he was wearing breaches) was very tall, dwarfing my four and a half feet. He wore a thick coat and large black gloves, but as he shuffled closer to me, his movements were far too fluid and not natural for a human of any age.

"I think..." He creaked out "you are missing something." This creature was so unlike anyone I had clapped my eyes upon before, his movements to smooth, his voice not quite right, I reached for my angel, feeling threatened by this stranger, and- it was not there! I gave a cry of dismay and horror. That was my one possession left from my late mother! "H, how do you know? Have you taken it? It was my mother's!" He silently held out a large gloved hand, and in it was my clockwork angel. I snatched it back, horrified at the thought of anyone touching my necklace, and looped it back around my neck, feeling the familiar weight against the hollow of my throat.

"I have come to warn you, daughter of the Angel Ithuriel, that your existence has become known to the magister, and he will not stop until he has you, for you are the key to his everlasting glory, and the bane of our kind" I was stunned. Quite literally stunned into silence. Daughter? Of an angel? This was as laughable as me being the next in line to the throne of England! Anyway I think I would have known if my father was an angel. And then I stopped and thought.

There had always been a cloud of mystery haunting my father's past. I had never been to his childhood home, never heard him speak of his parents, let alone seen my own grandparents. But when I had asked my mother (as I had done on multiple occasions) she had always said the past was best left alone, and then gently reminded me that proper young girls in our social standing were supposed to be seen and not heard. Thinking of my parents know made me shudder.

Something must have changed in my expression as the mans voice voice sounded almost pitying.

"I am sorry, but now you know your true heritage there is no going back to your old life." The next words he spoke have haunted me day and night, in nightmares and reality, " I would move quicker, constantly look over my shoulder if I were you, for the Dead travel fast!"

**Please Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**YAY everyone this is chapter 2. Thanks for the two reviews, they are ****extremely****appreciated. I am just going to say that it is ****definite that i will NOT update regularly because i always have lots of homework, so I am constantly sorry in advance. Now... on with the story. **

I gave a hiccuped gasp, breath hitching violently. Questions whizzed through my head and they burst out of my mouth, like an over eager or malfunctioning machine spitting their product out left right and center. All the questions that had plagued me since the first hint of the fact that my mother and father were not what they pretended to be bubbled out and over. I barely realized I was firing the questions like bullets: "The Dead? What do you mean my true heritage? What should I do? I've got nothing to my name! I might as well be dead! Where should I hide? Why me? My parents will have given up on me because I ran away, for questions they wouldn't answer!" The Dark Stranger just stared at me, I could imagine his hidden face looking aloof, disinterested, cold. Very cold.

"That is not my concern, I am merely the messenger of this declaration. I can only take you as far as the outskirts of London and from there you will have to figure out what to do."

He reached out to touch my arm and I drew back hastily, who was he to think he could be so intimate with me? Didn't he know that men did not touch women unless they were fully aquatinted?

"I won't hurt you."

Reluctantly I gently placed my hand on the crook of his elbow, pale skin against dark cotton. Something flashed in front of me, a blinding light which made me blink as black spots crowded my vision. I opened my eyes and gazed around me in wonder; a couple of seconds earlier I had been surrounded by trees and a snow covered clearing and now I could see the dim lights of London glowing by gaslight in front of me. I could make out the Dome of St Paul's, surrounded by the candles flickering around it which the night watchman light every evening, never having once failed in my memory, the Thames flowing under Tower Bridge and the dark space where I knew Covent Garden lay.

I slowly turned to the Dark Stranger to ask him how he had done this, but he wasn't there. I didn't expect him to leave me destitute by London, any self respecting women knew not to go out on the streets alone. I had never really been anywhere in London apart from the two streets left and right of my home and to balls in our carriage, which I had not been aloud to have the curtains open as the 'peasants' could see in. I had always found this particular arrangement unfair as I had never seen a 'peasant' or the rest of London because my nursery window was high up in the wall and I still slept in the nursery. The only knowledge I had of London's streets and sidewalks was my extensive intelligence of poring over my father's maps in the closed off area in the library. So I knew all the snick throughs and everything in theory, but it was getting dark and I knew how notorious the backstreets of London where after dark.

I had no choice. I had to hide, the idea of 'the Dead' terrified me more than I cared to admit.

"Here goes nothing." I muttered to myself wishing that I was in front of a roaring fire. Setting down the hill at a slow pace because my ankle was still protesting at any sort of movement, I wondered if my parents had noticed I was gone, they weren't due to come back until 10 when the engagement party ended but the governess might have noticed I was missing and notified the housekeeper who in turn would have sent a message to my parents at the party who no doubt would have rushed home to try and find me and stop me uncovering the secrets that they had kept hidden for my whole life. I reached the archway into the city and was just about to go into the courtyard on the other side when a crooked small man jumped into my path, he had a green complexion, painted or not it looked impressive. When he spoke it was more like a kitten spitting, you couldn't really understand him. Normally I would have just edged through but when he spoke he revealed a pair of ridiculously large, sharp fangs.

"What do you think you are doing?"

Isn't that quite obvious? "Could I please go into the city of London please sir?"

"Without payment there is no access."

I had to pay to get in? "You see sir, I live in London, and I need to get in for the night. I don't have anything to give you but I will return tomorrow and give you some gold." He would definitely let me in now. I planned to sell my hair and then use the money to find a place for me to stay, but this man wouldn't give me anything in return and I desperately needed money.

But the man wore a supercilious expression, "I'm afraid I need payment straight away but I don't want gold, so instead I will take something else." He crouched down and sprang at me, knocking me down. I let out a muffled scream, he bit down on my shoulder and sucked my blood from me. After about ten seconds he got off me, "Ahh that's my hunger dissipated, I don't think I will see you again." With a nasty smile in my direction he skipped off.

There was a terrible pain in my shoulder, I am not ashamed to admit I cried, I screamed into the cobbled stones, blood mixing with tears and rain from the overflowed drains. This was the most intense pain I had ever witnessed, even more than possibly breaking my ankle. My gash was stinging like acid had been pored over it. There was such a commotion going on in my head, I must have laid there for about 5 minutes but it felt like a millennium.

Strong arms, turned me over.

"Angel! Jem, look at her shoulder! Will she live?"

A different voice joined the cries of dying angels, it was quieter than the voice who had questioned if I was going to live, quiet and melodic. I liked him. Though he did sound very grim.

"Only if we take her to the institute, who do you think she, is wondering round London alone?" He didn't sound disapproving, just curious. "I wonder if she doesn't know that London is dangerous, particularly now with Downworld being in a disarray, perhaps she is from somewhere else in England."

"Never mind, we need to get her back quickly or she will die, for definite."

The same strong arms lifted me into his embrace and clutched me against his well defined chest. My eyes flickered open and met a pair of beautiful dark blue eyes, I heard him intake a breath, then... Nothing.

**Hope you enjoyed it!**

**XTX**


	3. Chapter 3

**So people after a REALLY long break i am finally back! i hope to post at least 1 more chapter before the end of Christmas break! x**

**Chapter 2**

There was a buzzing sound. And pain, pain that meant one thing, but my mind would not obey my ponderings, it had the red warning flashing: stop thinking or I will give you pain, pain that you have never felt before, just stop hurting me!  
"Canooplsschtopdatding?" I groaned meaning 'can you please stop that thing?!'  
"This is going to hurt her, Charlotte, she is nearing consciousness, we should have done it as soon as we got her in the infirmary." It was the same voice that said something about 'Downworld' what ever that was.  
"I know Will!" Snapped a slightly irritated voice.  
I tried to ask what they were doing to me that would cause so much pain but I couldn't move my mouth muscles enough to shape the correct words.  
"Charlotte!" Growled the voice "She's a mundane we can't reveal the shadow world to her!" This was said in such a disdainful fashion that I felt insulted. How was he to know I was a 'mundane' whatever it is, however as I had no knowledge of it, it was likely I wasn't whatever he was.  
"Will!" The other voice proclaimed in an exasperated fashion "just let me try! We have no choice."  
The world faded into darkness again, leaving the pain and voices behind.

I was in a dark room. There was only a chair, with a young lady standing with her back to me. She was dressed in black, all black, but not in a dress; she had men's garbs on. Trousers and a belt with weapons on it, there was a sword that looked like it was made out of glass, a dagger and a strange birch like pen. But none of this was more peculiar than the odd black swirling designs that covered the ladies hands and neck. What were they? She surveyed me curiously, as if I was a new breed of animal and she was the explorer.  
"What is your name?" She asked in a soft but commanding voice, her silence afterwards drew the answer out of me almost voluntarily.  
"I'm Theresa Gray, but I prefer to be called Tessa." The ladies eyebrows winged up, she seemed the sort of lady that wasn't surprised easily so my name must have meant something impressive or worrying for her. I hoped it was something impressive  
"Miss Gray! You won't ever know how glad we are to find you before the magister caught you! I'm Charlotte Branwell, head of the London Institute. It is a pleasure to be acquainted with you. Did your parents tell you anything about the shadow world?"

Ha! I knew my parents had been hiding something from me because, well what on earth was the shadow world? I shook my head mutely.  
"Nothing?" Disbelief coloured her voice "they really weren't going to reveal us to you!" She said the last bit to herself. "Okay then, all things Nephilim in a nutshell. I am a nephilim or Shadowhunter, as are Will and Jem the two boys who found you just inside London, dying of goblin venom. The legend of the Shadowhunters, is that they were created more than a thousand years ago, when humans were being overrun by demon invasions from the other worlds. A warlock summoned the Angel Raziel, who mixed some of his own blood with the blood of men in a cup, and gave it to those men to drink. Those who drank the Angel's blood became Shadowhunters, as did their children and their children's children. Warlocks, vampires, faeries, the lycanthrope more commonly known as the werewolves are all downworlders." Mrs Branwell's face showed its worry briefly. "The Accords are a treaty that ordains how Shadowhunters and Downworlders interact with mundanes and one another, as well as each group's rights, responsibilities, and restrictions, stating that as long as the rules are not broken, they can live in peace without bother and may even provide each other help when the need ever rises. That pretty much covers it I believe..."  
She paused and seemed to weigh up an option, her face a mixture of consternation and giddy happiness that is more at home with a small child that has just seen into a sweet shop, noting all the many sweet treats just beyond their reach. Looking at her closely, I noticed she had a lovely if somewhat tired face, with a spatter of freckles across her nose.  
"I think it is your right to know our current predicament. We have reports that a man called the Magister is currently building an army of some sort, one that could destroy the Nephilim race; we heard rumours from a reliable source no doubt- that he was looking for a girl, about 17 with black hair and stormy grey eyes. She would be wearing a clockwork angel necklace and is called Tessa Gray. You. Have you any idea why?"  
The latter part of the speech was said in a hurried fashion, as if it was a relief to get all her qualms out on the table, like a magician at the fairs I read about in my book, eager to get many silly but rich customers to look at their wares and have their fortunes told. In this circumstance, I was the rich but confused customer to who she was trying to sell her wares to. In other senses, I was deeply unaware of what she was trying to convey.  
I opened my mouth to tell her all this, but I couldn't speak. My mind and ability to speak was zooming away from Mrs Branwell and the room.  
"Now it's time to wake up dear." She said, patting my arm kindly.

I jerked awake gasping with a horrible taste in my mouth, what was that? A girl not that much older than me stood sat on the stool beside me, her black curls- a shade or two lighter than mine- were peaking out of a white cap. She was beautiful. The young lady turned her head slightly, and I caught sight of the other side of her face. It looked like someone had taken a knife to her, she had a terrible scar! "Hello Miss Tessa, Charlotte requested to see you as soon as you woke up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for all the new follows on the story! It's really exciting that people have an interest in my story, I'm not really sure where the story is going- I don't want to make it too cliche where it all ends up like the book/ HEA. Please please please review, and i hope you like the newest chapter...**

**xTx**

Branwell? Head of the institute?" I mumbled unconsciously and then slapped a hand over my mouth, it was deemed rude to question my elders- even if they were pretty similar in age to myself.  
The girl looked at me in confusion.  
"Yes..." Said she in a faltering voice "do you know of her?"  
"Umm no." I said quickly, trying to dispel the illusion that I had any idea what was going on "She- now, don't think me crazy but I'm pretty sure it happened- talked to me in my sleep! Oh my goodness that really is crazy! I think I should go to a mental asylum like Anne Catherwick in 'Women in white'! It sounded vaguely plausible in my head but out loud it sounds downright mad!" STOP! My brain shouted, all it's flashing lights going off now.  
"Woah woah woah! Slow down Miss! Don't worry it only sounds crazy to mundanes! The girl replied with a hint of a smile on her kind face.  
"Urgh! That word again! What's a mundane?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

The doors slid open and in walked the Mrs Branwell in question.  
"A mundane is a human, the everyday people that live in the world out there" she replied in clarion tones, gesturing out of a high sash window by my bed, which, though I guessed we were still in London- as I didn't recall a carriage journey- it was scarily quiet. No people bustling about doing their job, no markets men and women shouting over one another to get their products sold, no clamor of children rushing down the streets, fighting and playing over ridiculous promises and broken toys.  
"I'm not a mundane and neither are you, though I was hoping you would shed some light on this particular pickle. How are you feeling Miss Gray?"  
How could I answer that? _I'm fine thanks, just wondering when my parents were going to tell me about THIS!_ Hmm, maybe not. How about _should I be scared, someone mentioned the Dead?_ My crazy brain kept spitting up different answers but none came out, apart from the automatic: "I'm in perfect health thank you, how about yourself?"  
I cringed inwardly, how awkward. The socially acceptable phrases that had been added to my repertoire had been drummed firmly into me. Something I wasn't sure I was happy about...  
Mrs Branwell's eyes opened wide, probably cursing her luck that she had ended up with a puppet, who only knew a couple of phrases and repeated them in quick succession.  
"I'm so sorry Miss, are you feeling ok? You had quite a shock when that goblin bit you! Will and Jem found you pretty soon after they think..."  
"Really Ma'am you needn't worry," I said in my best voice flashing a half-smile at her "I do feel fine."  
Mrs Branwell visibly relaxed and sent a smile back.  
"Well then, would, you care for some dinner in the dining hall? She sounded so hopeful all of a sudden, that it feel rude to say I had a small appetite and replied that it would be an honor.  
Suddenly, the door to the infirmary burst open and a gangly red headed man loped in.  
"Charlotte, Charlotte! I have just stumbled upon the most exciting discovery! I've made my sleeve fire retardant!"  
The man looked relatively young- about five and twenty years of age in my estimation- and wore a maniacal grin. He seemed so eager and excited that his demeanor reminded me of a puppy, which I instantly warmed to. He was a quite ordinary looking man, garbed in the same strange, black garments that Mrs Branwell herself wore, however, (and this is a most strange observation on my part) he didn't suit the clothes as well as she, making him seem insignificant and out of depth as a person. Indeed, the most extraordinary thing about him was the lick of flames that surrounded his arm, flashing here and there and once nearly setting a curtain alight. The ever-changing fluctuation of the fire created a shadow on the wall behind him; portraying a rather sinister figure, which sometimes had two heads, then ten legs and all of a sudden 5 arms- reaching further and further up the ward. I shrank back in fear of the grabbing, pinching, gnarled hands; and then shook myself in disgust, it was only a shadow!  
"Henry!" Gasped Mrs Branwell "please don't alarm our guest; she has had quite a trauma and I'm not sure she can deal with your antics at the moment.  
"Oh" said Henry in such a dejected tone that I burst out:  
"Don't worry! It was most entertaining!" And let out a peel of laughter, with which they all joined in.  
"Charlotte I really do need to show you another invention though." Uttered Henry after the laughter had died down. "Do you wish to see it now?"  
Charlotte (as I now thought of her) resumed her serious disposition.  
"I really shouldn't Henry, I must look after Miss Gray..."  
At which point Sophie butted in:  
"Mrs Branwell, I am fully capable of handing her on my own, go and look at Mr Branwell's invention, I will dress her and get her down to the dining room in half an hour."  
With this statement the last cloud of worry blew away from Charlotte's face and she smiled at her maid.  
"You are my Angel Sophie! If you wish you can dress her in Jessamine's red gown- which she grew out of a while ago. And with a backwards glance to check if I was alright, left the ward with a slight spring in her step.

After a quick wash and a lace into a ridiculously small but pretty dress, Sophie sat me down in front of the mirror to assemble my hair, which was gently curling down my back. She had treated me with a delicacy that was normally reserved for a glass ornament and I felt as if i was going to explode. I wanted a normal treatment, people not afraid to scare me.  
Hesitantly I ventured into a conversation.  
"Sophie?"  
"Yes Miss Tessa?" She said, her face lighting up a bit.  
"I was just wondering," Her face closed off and she gave a gentle sigh, she probably thought I was going to ask her about the scar that marred her complexion- the poor girl probably got plagued by these questions and had no patience for them.  
"Why you're working here? You don't seem like Charlotte or Henry (in the fact that you're not wearing those strange, black clothes) so how come you're employed?"  
Her face betrayed a flicker of surprise which she suppressed and answered that Charlotte had been good to her and she did it as a favour.  
"Now!" She said "are you ready to meet the others?"  
I nodded unconvincingly.

Now Reader, I feel I should explain my hesitancy, my whole life had been lived in solitary confinement, with only a couple of maids attending to me; my parents not having enough time for my upbringing- only caring for social engagements- left me in the care of a wet nurse at the age of 3 months, you see Reader, I was so unused to affection, the only genuine affection being seen in my books. I only saw my parents on Sunday's at church (where they didn't even sit with me) and, if I was lucky and my parents in a benevolent mood, I was allowed to slip into the library and sit with my parents for 10 minutes before bed. I was so unused to human compassion that I fair distrusted it! Why, even the maids thought of me as a burden! I was just a another drudging task for them, a milk cow for want of money. And by Jove did it hurt, I felt no one cared if I lived or died; this, in part, had driven me to my abandonment of ship per say.

I followed Sophie down a labyrinth of passages, which had tapestries depicting scenes from the Shadowhunter's history, the most commonly seen image was the one of an angel rising out of a lake holding three golden objects. There were elaborate candelabras lighting the way for us, corridors branching off in many different directions and doors of all shapes and sizes. I passed a door which opened like a mouth- baring its teeth and everything- which omitted a scary reddish tinged light. I nearly shrieked, but checked it just in time, I was not going to be thought of as weak, it could not happen. We reached a grand staircase and began the descent.  
"There are three permanent wards of this institute," began Sophie " Miss Jessamine, Master Jem and Master Will." With the last name her mouth curled up as if tasting a lemon. I got the feeling this 'Will' character was a trying person. Though- I seem to recall- he was one of the people who had rescued me, so maybe I shouldn't judge too quickly.  
"And are they all... Um...Shadowhunters?" I questioned nervously, the idea of a household trained in the martial arts was slightly worrying.  
"In theory yes, but Miss Jessamine refuses to concede to being one, in fact she even demanded to stop training, but never you fear Miss Tessa, there is plenty of space here and in all honesty, it would be nice to have another face around these hallways and arches." She paused and hefted open a solid oak door "here is the dining room, I will introduce you to the others."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: ( I forgot to do one before, so for every chapter until 5 here's the disclaimer) I'm not Cassandra Clare **

Chapter 5

Inside the room stood a large marble table with food to feed a thousand! Round the table were elaborately decorated chairs, two of which were on the floor, knocked over in haste it seemed. There were two people, a boy and a girl, who were not overly pleased with each other. How, Reader, do you think I could tell that? It might have been the fact that they were 10 feet apart bellowing like wounded hippos at each other. The boy was _beautiful_, with tangled black hair and eyes like blue fire, flashing dangerously as he shouted, they were the eyes I had seen before the pain had taken me to oblivion, I was sure!

Elegant cheek bones and a full mouth, something I observed when the girl started screeching and the boy had closed his mouth for a breath. The girl had fair hair and wore a shimmering blue gown, her brown eyes were large in her pale face, making her seem vulnerable if it weren't for the obscenities that were streaming out of her mouth.

"...And I expect you know so much, Will Herondale don't you? With you being a perfect gentleman and everything? Remind me the last time you behaved appropriately to a lady? When did you last get up when I entered the room like a true gentleman should?"

"But you aren't a lady Jessie, so when a lady does come in, I will be sure to stand up." With the last word, he turned to Sophie and me, sending an inquiring look at Sophie, he turned to me,

"I do believe I have the pleasure of meeting Miss Gray, my recollection of you is vivid indeed!" He grinned, his voice was pleasantly English, so ordinary that it put me at ease, even though he had been going hammer and tongs at the girl-Jessie.

Just then the door burst open and in came Charlotte, who was adamantly telling Henry that under no circumstance was that device to be used until it had been refined. Her dress was slightly singed and her hair had ashes in it, I guess the experiment hadn't gone very well by the look of it! Sophie sighed and pulled a chair out for me, "Master Will," she said emphatically.

"What?" He replied, way to innocently to be reassuring.

Charlotte seemed to realize that I had no idea who half these people were.

"Tessa, this is Jessamine, Jessamine- Jessie look up dear- this is Miss Gray, she will be staying with us for a while. And... Will," said Charlotte sighing, "do you recall Miss Gray?"

"Yes," replied Will musingly "is she the one?"

This seemed to stump Charlotte and just at that moment a plump women of middle age whose grey hair was escaping from a bun at the back of her head came in and started serving food from the side board. There was roast pork, potatoes, savory soup and fluffy bread rolls. My stomach turned over when I saw them, how I was not hungry was a mystery to me, but the idea of eating was most unappealing.

After waiting as the occupants of the room ate their meal- avidly avoiding Will's gaze all the while- Charlotte came back the the question of 'was I the one'. In all honesty I still had no idea if they told the truth and what I was supposed to do about the supposed Magister that wanted me so desperately.

"What's the power that she supposedly has, that is such a danger to us?" Jessamine asked spitefully, "she doesn't look like a secret weapon or even a warrior. Who even is she?"

"Enough Jessamine," said Will angrily, but casting a curious look in my direction. "What is your power Miss Gray?" I looked around to try and get some help from Charlotte but 4 pairs of eyes stared at me curiously.

Okay, I thought to myself, I am the daughter of a supposed angel, I must have something extraordinary about me. I looked deep down within myself. Flicking through childhood memories, my most poignant emotions were ones of abandonment and doubt of who I was. Deeper and deeper I searched until I was at rock bottom. Those feelings were the ones that came up most, I latched onto them. Suddenly something flickered at the back of my mind and I groped my way towards it; a piece of driftwood for the isolated person. I reached forwards and touched the center of light. Lights flashed in front of my eyes and unimaginable pain coursed its way down my body, I held on, I had come to far to let go and even if I did I would fall into a never ending space of mental unconsciousness. An image danced into my vision, a fair-haired girl who I vaguely recognized and I grabbed at it, pulling it into my grasp and letting a shimmer go through me, I changed.

Opening my eyes I saw the whole table staring at me, aghast.

"By the Angel" breathed Will, "the likeness is uncanny, however, I hope we don't have two devil spawn to deal with. Let us hope that this one has a better temper."

Jessamine was staring at me as if she'd seen a ghost, I looked down at myself, I was still wearing my dress but slender, pale hands that were not my own rested on my lap, enfolded daintily together. A looking glass appeared by my left hand side and I looked up to see Will placing it there, all the while staring at me as if I had turned into someone he didn't know, which I thought was strange, as he didn't really know me anyway. Picking up the mirror, I gasped. Staring back at me was Jessamine in all her crowning glory.

My consciousness brushed against an object and I turned my attention inward. The object was a scrumptious, lush, juicy, pinkish Apple that let off a sweet scent of summer and nature and pure beauty. Enticed, I reached greedily forward with my mind and delved into it. The first bite tasted of pure heaven, life as I knew it couldn't have been gre... and than came the nausea. The once gorgeous Apple dropped from my mind, a fleshy red and white toadstool fell to the floor and my stomach heaved. In the few split seconds that had been ambrosia and nectar to me, I had caught a glimpse of Jessamine's poisonous mind. It reeked of bitterness and envy, hate and greed, twisted passion and betrayal. Many terrible ordeals must have occurred to her with all those emotions, writhing and twisting in the central part of her being. How could someone so pretty and innocent on the outside be so emotionally messed up in her soul?

A soft nudge brought me back to the dining hall of the institute. Startled out of my reverie, I felt the weight of the gazes on my face and I prepared my self for the torrents of questions to follow.

**Well that's theme of chapter 5! I hope you like it! Please review **

**xTx**


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